


Drabble: Last Grain of Sand

by wintermute



Category: NCIS
Genre: BDSM, Drabble, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-17
Updated: 2011-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintermute/pseuds/wintermute
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"The last grain of sand fell, and the world slowed down around them."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble: Last Grain of Sand

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ ncisdrabble100 comm Challenge #229 – Timing is Everything

He shifted his hands to the broad expanse of skin, fingers trailing downwards along the spine towards the buttocks, redden and glowing from earlier ministrations. Icy blue eyes admired the smooth, tanned silk of his sub’s backside, gleaming with sweat, and didn’t that feel just wonderful under his rough, callused digits? He gave the taut globes another quick, hard slap, and received a throaty moan in return.

He felt the body underneath his hand shiver as his fingers dipped deeper.

Fingers nudged the wet and loosened entrance, massaging, teasing. His other hand snaked around to the front, never touching the weeping erection that was screaming for release. Instead, those nimble digits danced on the hard muscular planes, playing and tugging at the swollen nubs.

He could hear the whimpers that were barely sputtered out of those kiss-puffed lips, and with them the slight tensing of muscle, so he let his wondering hand return to his sub’s side, travelling back up to his shoulder, his neck. He gripped, firmly on the nape, taking his sub down deeper. He could feel the muscles relax further, the metal buckles of his collar warm in his hand, and that made him smile.

So beautiful, the way his sub willingly knelt, hands bound and tied to the chain from the ceiling, and simply defaulted every decision to him.

He could feel himself harden more with the pulses his fingers felt on his sub’s jugular. There was a kind of raw, needy passion that was burning low in the pit of his stomach that screamed more.

More.

 _More, more, more._

So he allowed a finger to sink, into the pliant flesh that welcomed and embraced his intrusion. Adding a finger and the lean body was arching towards him in need with a loud sigh.

“Shh…” he whispered. “Not yet.”

He let go of his sub’s neck, and wrapped the free arm around his torso, his hand resting on the opposite shoulder, bringing the younger man close. He peppered his sub’s nape with kisses, alternating with nips and licks. Then he bit down, hard, and reveled in the shudder that rushed through his sub’s body.

Long fingers massaged and twisted and curled, setting off incredibly delicious sensations that exploded in a million flashes of light, reducing the man before him into a keening, sobbing heap.

The last grain of sand fell, and the world slowed down around them. He was well acquainted with that moment, so he quietly whispered-

“Come for me, Tony.”

 


End file.
